rent, and dubious in what manner he should attempt to secure his booty. As Brown came to the edge of the bank, he called out—"Hold up your torch, friend huntsman," for he had already distinguished his dusky features by the strong light cast upon it by the blaze—But the fellow no sooner heard his voice, and saw, or rather concluded it was Brown who approached him, than, instead of advancing his light, he let it drop, as if accidentally, in the water.
"The deil's in Gabriel"— said the spearman, as the fragments of glowing wood floated half-blazing, half-sparkling, but soon extinguished, down the stream—"the deil's in the man—I'll never master him without the light—and a braver kipper, could I but land him, never reisted abune a pair o' cleeks."—Some dashed into the water to lend their assistance, and the fish, which was afterwards found to weigh nearly thirty pounds, was landed in safety.
The behaviour of the huntsman struck
